


Unfinished Business

by Pony Girl (Jackjunkie)



Category: Young Riders
Genre: Episode Tag, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-21
Updated: 2012-10-21
Packaged: 2017-11-16 18:39:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/542606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jackjunkie/pseuds/Pony%20Girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The two friends find a way for Ike to make up for hitting Buck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unfinished Business

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine The Pony Express #5  
> Tag to The Littlest Cowboy

“Rider comin’ in!”

Hearing the familiar call, Buck looked up to see Ike ride into the station yard and pass his pouch to Noah. Lou led the incoming rider’s tired horse off to be stabled, while Rachel handed the equally tired rider a drink of cool water.

Buck felt comfort in watching the homely scene. It was so good to see things back to normal. They’d all been through such a hard time lately, with Ike so angry at them all, at the world, at fate. It had seemed to Buck that he was losing his best friend and there was nothing he could do about it. It had taken a sick little boy named Arthur to restore Ike’s perspective. Buck was grateful Ike had found his way back to his friends.

He waved and grinned a welcome. Seeing him, Ike handed the empty cup back to Rachel with a nod of thanks and crossed to the bunkhouse. Lowering himself to the steps next to the Kiowa, he removed his hat and leaned wearily back on his elbows.

“Hard ride?” Buck queried.

Ike shrugged noncommittally. He stared off across the yard, then squinted up at the sky, and then down at the ground. Finally taking a deep breath, he sat up and made a brusque gesture, snapping a finger forward near his mouth.

“You wanna talk?” Buck repeated. “Sure, Ike. What about?”

The other young rider opened his hands, stopped, then began a series of hesitant motions, pausing and changing them at times as if he were unsure of what to say.

Buck watched without interrupting, a puzzled frown forming between his brows. “I don’t follow you, Ike. We settled all this. It’s behind us. We all said some harsh things, but we understand what you were going through, and we’re just glad you stopped being so mad at all of us. You made everything right with everybody. You’re actin’ like yourself again and we don’t hold any of it against you. Everything’s fine now.”

Slapping his hand down on the steps in frustration, Ike finally looked up to meet those dark eyes and gave a curt shake of his head. He tried again, turning his hand, then circling it, before pointing at Buck.

“Not everybody, just me?” Buck anxiously attempted to fathom what Ike was getting at. “I know you’re sorry, Ike, but you acted pretty rotten to all of us.” He smiled to lighten the accusation.

With a sigh, Ike added a string of signals.

“Oh.” A board creaked as Buck shifted uncomfortably and it was his turn to look down. “I’m the only one you hit.”

The young Indian squirmed a little at the memory. He’d tried to force Ike to talk to him about what was bothering him. When he’d tried to stop him from walking away, Ike had turned and swung at him, his fist striking solidly across Buck’s cheekbone and knocking him to the floor. Scrambling to his feet, Buck had run after his friend, who had galloped out of reach on horseback. With everything that had happened afterward, the two hadn’t gotten around to talking about the incident. Until now.

Of course Buck hadn’t exactly forgotten about what had happened that day in the barn. He’d simply put it behind him and moved on. Or at least he’d thought he had. He realized now that the memory still bothered him. He’d buried it away, but as soon as it surfaced, so did the uneasy feelings buried with it. Why? What did he have to feel badly about? He couldn’t really resent Ike for hitting him, could he? It had been understandable under the circumstances. Or was it guilt? He’d pushed so hard it was probably his own fault Ike had hit him. He just hadn’t known what else to do. He rubbed his hand thoughtfully along the side of his face and frankly regarded his closest friend.

“You pack a mean punch, Ike, but you weren’t the only one who was mad that day. I was mad at you, too. Even friends get mad at each other sometimes.”

Ike’s gestures moved at a faster pace. Now that he’d gotten started, he seemed more assured about what he wanted to say.

“What do you mean you weren’t mad at me? It sure felt like you were mad.”

Ike moved his hand from his forehead to point from Buck to himself.

“You were mad, but not at me, at yourself?” Buck thought that over. It did make sense. It matched what Ike had been saying at the time about how he felt about himself, that he only caused trouble and didn’t deserve any friends. Buck had quickly dismissed those statements as nonsense because he knew they weren’t true, knew how much he cared about Ike and how he needed Ike’s friendship.

He could see how they wouldn’t have seemed like nonsense to Ike then, though, but had expressed how deeply he was hurting. He’d turned the hurt inward against himself, only he couldn’t strike out physically against himself, so he’d struck at the closest person available instead—and that person just happened to be Buck. How could Buck hold a grudge over something that had probably caused Ike a lot more pain than a bruised face?

“I see what you’re saying. You had to hit somebody and I was handy. Hey, what are friends for, right?” He smiled to show there were no hard feelings. “It’s kinda too bad you couldn’ta punched yourself in the face, though, and knocked some sense into that hard head of yours.”

Ike answered with a lopsided grin and a suggestion.

Buck’s smile faded. “Hit you back? Now? Don’t be crazy! What would that solve?”

Ike raised his eyebrows and tilted his head as he pointed at Buck.

“It would make me feel better? I don’t think so. Let’s leave the fistfights to Hickok and the Kid. Look, if you want to do something to make up for it, why don’t you take my next run? Deal?”

Ike considered the offer for a moment, then shrugged and nodded.

“Good. I’m glad that’s settled.” Buck rose to his feet. “Now what do you say we…”

His words were cut off as the bunkhouse door flew open and a stuffed owl sailed out the doorway and headed straight for Buck.

Leaping to his feet, Ike pushed Buck out of the way, but wasn’t fast enough to save himself as well. The large ball of feathers flew smack into his head and threw him off balance. He tumbled off the stairs and landed on the hard-packed dirt below, the tattered wings still clinging to his head.

Billy Cody flew out the door after the owl. Ignoring his fallen comrade, he snatched the dusty object from Ike’s head and began lovingly to brush it off. “It better not be damaged, Hickok, or you’re in big trouble!”

Hickok stamped to the doorway and looked out. “You’re the one askin’ fer trouble, Cody, if you don’t clear that trash offa my bunk! I told you a hundred times to keep your junk outa my way. One a these days, we’re gonna clean house around here, and that dadburned owl ain’t the only thing gonna disappear.” He turned back into the bunkhouse.

“Junk! I’ll have you know this here’s a valuable natural science artifact.” An outraged Cody stormed into the building after him, the slam of the door punctuating his claim with a loud bang.

Taking Buck’s outstretched hand, Ike pulled himself up out of the dirt. Indicating that he was unhurt, he dusted himself off. He cocked a quizzical eyebrow as Buck began to chuckle.

“Sorry, Ike, but you did look awfully funny down there in the dirt with that pile of feathers on your head.”

Ike swatted at him in playful reproach. Joining in the laughter at his own expense, he signed another comment.

Buck considered his observation in surprise. “Yeah, Ike, I do feel better. Guess maybe you had the right idea all along.” He looked speculatively at the closed door. “It’s hard to believe I’d ever have cause to be grateful for Cody and Hickok’s everlasting squabbling.” His eyes took on a devilish glint. “Now what do you say we go inside and see if we can’t pay those two back?”

THE END


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